The Sparrow
by AVeryStrangeBirdie
Summary: The dreaded OC fic-Shina finds herself sentenced to Deadman Wonderland's G-Block. What follows is the stuff of nightmares as the newly-christened Sparrow struggles to survive Carnival Corpses, Penalty games, Undertakers and everything else this murder carnival of a prison can throw her way. M for language and violence. First few chapters very short, length increases exponentially.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Yeah, it's the dreaded OC fic. Honesty hour: I've never written fanfiction before. Oh, I've written a decent amount, but always my own ideas, my own world. Now, being the twisted soul that I am, after watching the anime I cannot get this show out of my head and I really really wanted to write something set in so freakish a place. I hope you enjoy this! This likely veers into AU territory, but not too dissimilar, and hopefully all the canon characters sound like themselves! Please tell me your thoughts, especially constructive criticism! Nothing helps improve writing more, and hey, fooling around in someone else's universe is an ideal place for some growth. Also, please note each chapter/section starts with a timeframe and a line from the opening-I wrote the lyrics as I heard it, so there may be small inaccuracies. Well, onto the show!

Six months prior to Ganta's arrival...

_Think I've thrown off reason and reality..._

Shina lay restrained in her hospital bed, open eyes staring at nothing. The memories kept coming, just wouldn't cease no matter how hard she tried. Of Wes, his still form on the ground, unmoving as blood pooled beneath him. The flash of the knife as it drove repeatedly into his chest. Him dead because he was trying to defend her...only for Shina to be accused of his murder.

There wasn't anything she could do to prove it hadn't been her. The knife had only her prints, her blood on the handle and his on the blade. The man, the one who had cornered her in the alleyway, was wearing gloves...and his grinning face made it all too clear he knew exactly what he was doing. Sentencing Shina to a life of death.

Her lawyer stood uselessly by as she was paraded into court, silent as the evidence piled against her. Did nothing as the 17-year-old was tried as an adult. Did nothing as the verdict was read out: she was to be imprisoned in Deadman Wonderland until its games killed her. As soon as the stitches across her collarbone were removed and her snapped femur was healed, she would be sent there never to see freedom again. Her tears had run out a few hours ago, only the occasional tremor passing through her body any indication of the sheer terror encompassing her.

And not a single person left in her life to give a single shit what happened to her.


	2. Chapter 2

Two weeks later...

_Cut myself and scream for their insanity..._

G-block, that's what he called it. That Tamaki bastard. Her own goddamned lawyer was in charge of this hellhole. And there was still no explanation as to why she was here, hidden away in the max security of a max security prison. She wasn't even given the luxury of being called by name, no, she was suddenly Sparrow for no discernible reason. Now left to herself in a cell, Shina curled onto her side, trying to ignore the cold metal collar tight around her neck. Just three days, three more if she ate that candy they claimed was the antidote to the poison being leaked into her veins. Six days and Shina could simply let herself die, right? She wasn't about to make an effort to win any more cast points than she'd been given.

She remained like that for several hours, drifting in and out of consciousness, until the TV screen in her wall lit up, a sickeningly cheery voice drawing her attention.

"Hello there, Deadmen! We have an exciting announcement to make: tomorrow night will be a newcomer's first Carnival Corpse! Look forward to seeing Sparrow attempt to hold her own against Game Fowl!"

Shina bolted forward, spinning to face the screen as it displayed her face besides that of a young woman's before fading off. "Carnival Corpse?" she whispered weakly to herself, turning towards her door and taking tentative steps forward, cautiously slipping out into the hallway. Seeing no other inmates in sight, she kept her head down, walking through the corridor until reaching a door at the end of the hall, a label reading GYM plastered across it. Standing there, she debated whether it was worth it to take a look inside, make even the slightest effort to try and survive. Only the possibility of some fencing practice convinced her to step inside. Sure, chances were slim there would be a practice foil or anything even remotely pointy inside, but going longer than a week without her favorite sport was beginning to drive her a little stir crazy.

She walked in just as a dark-haired, muscle-bound man was making his way out. He paused, looking down at her with a small grin. Shina stumbled back against the door, tensing up under his predatory gaze.

"You must be the Sparrow chick, right? Damn, you must be one bitch of a girlfriend to slaughter your man like that. What could he have done to piss you off that much?"

Since that day, Shina had retreated into herself, living in a haze, making little to no effort in any aspect of life. But him grinning down at her, bringing up Wes like that...

"He wasn't my boyfriend and I didn't do anything to him!" she snapped in fear and rage. He raised an eyebrow, breaking into a full smile now.

"Whatever you say, little Sparrow. You're up against Karako tomorrow, right? Well, there's no reason we can't have a little warm-up right now, huh? I'm Senji. They call me Crow." As he told Shina his name, he crossed his arms, slicing his forearms open with spiked thumb rings, suddenly forming blades of his own blood.

Shina shrunk back, eyes wide, more afraid than ever. "H-how did you do that?"

Senji broke into laughter, staring at her in amusement and contempt. "It's my Branch of Sin. What the fuck else would you expect of a fellow Deadman?"

There it was. That word again. Deadman. "I don't know what you mean! What's a Deadman, what's a Branch of Sin? Why am I even here, trapped in a pit with madmen like you!?"

He didn't even react to her desperate shrieking. "Your blood. Something happens when you bleed, so what's it do? I'd hate to be a bad sport and butcher you before your first match, but you won't last long if you can't even control your Branch of Sin."

Shina shook her head, tears in her eyes now. There wasn't any such thing, it didn't make sense. She was hallucinating, any minute now, she'd wake up, maybe back into a nightmare but at least one that made more sense. A sharp slice across her left palm made her eyes snap back to his.

"You'll know what to do. It isn't that hard to figure out. And I'll keep cutting until you do."

No. NO. There wasn't any sense of this, she had no idea what to do. The only violence she knew was fencing, something that would clearly be useless to her now. Unless...

The door opened, the sudden absence of support making Shina tumble backwards into whoever tried to come in.

"Tch. Minatsuki. Way to spoil my fun." Senji shoved past Shina, blades disappearing as quickly as they'd come. The firm grip of Minatsuki shifted until the girls were looking face to face.

"Ugh. Why are you still in that prison suit? It's like you're a whore with something to hide."

Shina stared at her savior, glancing down at herself and reddening in embarrassment. The jumpsuit that labeled her as Inmate 5243 was all she'd been given to wear.

"Whatever. Chances are you'll be dead soon anyway. If you're still alive tomorrow-ha! doubtful-you can borrow something of mine, just as long as you don't bleed all over it. Only my opponents are allowed to do that."

The sneering Minatsuki released her hold, heading back towards her own room. Shina watched her, transfixed by her 'savior.'

"I-sorry-thanks, I think!"

"Whatever."


	3. Chapter 3

The next day...

_Wake up to this nightmare that will never end..._

Sparrow vs. Game Fowl

Shina squinted against the glare, remaining immobile even as the cell door opened into the even bigger birdcage that would serve as the arena. Across from her stood the woman she'd seen on the TV, the tanned short-haired blonde. She, too, didn't immediately step forward. Lengthy seconds passed with no movement, until Game Fowl finally walked towards the newcomer.

"Aren't you going to fight?" she asked Shina, glancing down as she cut herself, fist becoming encased in hardened blood. Shina didn't respond, concentrating too much on trying to keep her breathing steady.

"You know, they like to see some resistance. It's what the audience paid for." Still, silence. "No? Okay then. Please forgive me-the match won't end until you're incapacitated."

Game Fowl's-Karako, Senji had called her-fist drove into Shina's middle, making her double over in pain before she crumpled to the floor, spitting out blood and vomiting what little there was in her stomach. Karako waited, looming over her until she'd finished coughing, then punched her again, this time in the side. Whining with the pain, Shina desperately crawled away, curling into the fetal position and raising her arm to protect herself, only to be kicked in the back repeatedly. Once again Karako paused, but as soon as Shina began to move again, she started again.

So it wasn't going to end until Shina was literally too weak to move. She remained still, not reacting to the blows until they finally subsided. Within seconds she managed to scramble to her feet, stumbling as far away as quickly as she could, scratching her long nails along her left palm with violent force until it began to bleed. "Come on. Please," she whispered at her hand, clenching her fist tight until a strange sensation overcame her.

There was a blade forming in her palm. Extending gradually, traces of a bell guard coating her knuckles as a perfect fencing blade was created, now a literal extension of herself.

Karako smiled at her from afar. "I was worried you'd given up on life."

Shina shook her head, climbing to her feet and settling into a proper stance. "I have. I'm already dead...I simply have nothing left to lose."

"But clearly not nothing left to fight for." Karako shot forward again, fist drawn back as if readying a final blow. Shina tensed, trying to remain calm and figure out exactly how to fence an opponent that wasn't fighting in the same manner. She lunged, allowing Karako's fist to glance off the blade before aiming to strike her in the arm-only for her other hand, likewise armored in blood, to grab hold of the blade and make it cease its movement. Before Shina could figure out how to escape Karako's grasp, she received a sharp blow to the head, falling backwards as her blade dissipated into a bloody smear across the floor.

"I'm sorry, Sparrow."


	4. Chapter 4

An hour later...

_The main attraction of this twisted master plan..._

Shina gradually awakened to find herself strapped to a chair, injuries cared for even if she still felt like shit. A spotlight flashed on above her as a doctor and a slot machine emerged from the gloom.

"First match and already in the penalty game! Expected but unfortunate. Well then," the woman paused, a smirk forming on her lips as she pulled down the lever, "I wonder what I get to carve out of you. I'm hoping for a tongue or both your thumbs, hm?"

"N-no, stop it stopit STOP IT!"

"If you say so." The lever yanked back up, the machine slowing, slowing...until all three slots displayed 'hand.' What was happening? What was that supposed to mean, was the doctor serious when she said she'd get to...to cut off...

"Huh. It doesn't specify which hand. I'd ask your opinion but surely you'd say neither. First time out...I'll be merciful and take the left! That tends to be the less useful one."

"But I'm left handed," Shina argued weakly, mind still deep in denial even as surgical tools were wheeled out. If the lady had watched-of course she'd watched-she should already know that-so she was-

"Oh well, there's a reason why schoolteachers used to beat that out of kids, right?"

The restraints were further tightened on Shina's left arm, medical personnel gathering around as the twisted doctor took a fine-toothed saw into her gloved hands. It began whirring as she flipped it on. Shina felt the grip of suffocating fear overtake her as it neared her wrist.

"No, wait, you can't, you can't just do this, cut off someone's hand, this is illegal a-and sick anNNAAAAARGH!"

Shina felt it as she pissed herself, no thought left to be ashamed as the saw bit into flesh, grinding through sinew and bone before severing her hand completely, blood spurting out until the stump was clamped down and antibiotics were shot into her system. She was held down in her chair, continuing to scream well after her voice went hoarse, body squirming and bucking against the guards' grip until she gradually succumbed to shock, tears streaming freely down her face. She was held there for the remainder of the night, begging for her hand back, pleading for painkillers-something only enough cast points could buy her, she was told-slowly going mad as her body finally gave in to its exhaustion.


	5. Chapter 5

The following morning...

_I will be your deadman..._

Shina didn't give any indication she heard the tentative knocking on her door, but after a short pause, it slid open, revealing her opponent of the night before.

"Sparrow?"

"Out. Keep away from me."

Karako sighed in annoyance, stepping inside and sitting on the edge of Shina's bed. "I'm not here to hurt you. About the 'Too Bad for the Loser Show...' I'm sorry it had to happen like that, but there was nothing I could do."

Shina looked down at her remaining, shaking hand, giving a curt nod in response. She'd had hours to think about it, and what was this woman supposed to do? Sacrifice her own goddamn hand for some random kid who was in here for murder? _I sure as hell wouldn't bother. _The longer she looked at the stump of her left wrist, the more nausea overwhelmed her. She could still feel it, why could she still feel it? Some phantom limb bullshit, probably, but as it was it just drove her closer to despair.

"Here. Eat this, and then take one of these every few hours until you run out." Karako held out a piece of candy in its mocking striped wrapper, a small pill bottle lying beside it.

"I...what...why..." Shina stared at the gift, wide-eyed. They'd told her that shit took some serious cash.

"Just take it," Karako said firmly, pressing the items into Shina's remaining palm. They sat silent for a moment, until Karako cleared her throat and rose to her feet. "Well, I'll just take my leave then-"

"Wait."

She paused, facing Shina from over her shoulder. "Yeah?"

"Name's Shina. Inaru Shina. Not that Sparrow crap. A-and thank you."

Karako broke into a grin, lighting up her whole face. "No problem, Shina. And don't go giving up hope just yet." The door shut silently behind her, leaving Shina alone with her thoughts once more.

Hope, huh? There wasn't much of that to go around, being stuck in this hellhole, having a hand chopped off as you were forced to watch. Shina sighed in defeat, reluctantly choking down the candy to get her collar to stop the beeping. She couldn't just let herself die, she was too weak to do it on her own. Someone else needed to do that for her.

But maybe, just maybe, she was too strong.


	6. Chapter 6

Two days later...

_With nothing but this blood on my hands..._

"Get your moping ass up now, Sparrow."

Shina batted away the hand shaking her awake. "Fuck off." Who the hell would even be bothering her to begin with?

"No. You made a fucking bloodsword and I'll be damned if I don't get to see you do it again. And I think I'll enjoy crushing you, so just a bit of a fight would be nice. More challenge is more fun, am I right?"

Senji. Crow. Whatever. "You're already damned," she groaned, "so now fuck off and leave me in peace."

Her eyes snapped open as blistering pain sparked through her missing appendage. She suppressed a shriek as the man dragged her to her feet, a crushing iron grip on the wrist that once had a hand. He gave a slight smirk, pressing harder. "Are you coming to the gym or what?"

"Fine," she said in a high-pitched whine, sagging in relief as he released her left wrist. "Why the hell should you care anyway?"

"I told you. I want a bit of a challenge, Sparrow."

Shina grumbled irritably to herself, turning her back to him and awkwardly trying to get her shirt over her head. Senji's sudden squawking noises caused her to raise an eyebrow as she turned around to see what the problem was, only to find him red with embarrassment and thrusting his jacket at her. "For fuck's sake, c-cover yourself!"

A grin slipped over her face, the first one since the day Wes died. "What? I guarantee, I don't have much to get flustered over. And you try to change with only one hand, you pushy bastard."

"But I-argh!" She stifled a laugh as he bolted out the door, footsteps echoing down the corridor. Shina collapsed back onto the bed, yanking on another shirt Minatsuki had loaned her. That girl was a psychopath, but really...didn't that address everyone who'd had the misfortune of ending up here?

If she didn't follow soon, Crow was sure to come back and pester her again, and after witnessing a match of his-how he tore his newcomer opponent into bloody shreds-she didn't want to cross the man, easily titillated or not. Reluctantly, Shina bent her steps towards the room she'd caught a glimpse of her first night there.

She stepped inside only to have Crow's blades against her throat. "Let's see the bloodblade, little Sparrow," he growled, eyes narrowed.

Shina stumbled back, banging against the closed door just as she did her first time here. "W-weren't you just running away from my indecency?"

"Oh _shut up!"_

He backed away, slicing open her right palm and slashing through the bandages on her left wrist, leaving her to gasp in shock. "Ow," she squeaked, blinking at him in surprise, "that hurt."

"Forgive me, it's terribly rude to hit a woman, but suck it up." He glared down at her before sighing in contempt. "Well? Start it up already!"

Shina was a fencer, primarily epee but occasionally saber. A left-handed fencer. Without a left hand. The only reason she'd been able to do anything in that arena was because she just pretended it was a normal blade in her hand. No hand, no blade. And using her right? It would take her months to get that mastery back, if she could manage at all! Just looking down at her arms made her bark with laughter-the muscles of her left arm were nearly double those of her right. "Start up what, Senji? I was dead the second that slot machine stopped spinning."

"Look," he began, clenching his jaw, "I don't know what sort of pansy fake fighting you did on the outside, but that shit won't be working in here. Either use what you've got or find yourself a new goddamned hand. Rumor has it that prosthetics are worth six months' worth of candy, and I don't care whose ass you kiss up to, there's no way in hell you'll be getting there anytime soon. Now show me. The Bloodblade."

Six months. A new limb was worth six months of life, parceled out in three-day packages. Holy hell. And he did _not_ just call one of the very few sources of joy in her life 'pansy fake fighting.' Refusing to meet his gaze, Shina tensed, forcing the blood coating her right hand to take on a familiar shape as she settled into a stance reversed from her usual one. "I _do not_ kiss ass."

A bloodthirsty grin spread over Crow's face. "That's more like it!" Almost immediately he struck, giving Shina less than a second to react and put her blade up before one of his scythes rammed into it, the other curving around and forcing her to duck. Stumbling up to her feet, she ran to the open part of the room, keeping her eyes locked on his arms as Crow made his next move, cutting the equipment beside her into ribbons. Shina gritted her teeth, standing her ground as he drew ever-closer. Her own feet were tripping her up, leading with her right foot just wasn't natural to her. As it was she could barely keep up trying to block his dual blades...

"Make me try, Sparrow! This should be interesting!"

She feinted a parry and retreat, hoping to catch the man off-guard as she launched forward with explosive force, aiming directly for his chest. He caught her lone blade between both of his, shoving her back violently. It was clear trying to hit with the point would be useless, so Shina switched tactics, quickly running saber slashes and blocks in her head, trying to switch them around so she could fight with her other side. Responding to her thoughts, her blood thickened, sharp edges tapering the sides of the blade. Senji slashed her deep across the shoulder while she was distracted, blood oozing out and staining the light yellow shirt.

"Ah, won't Minatsuki kill me because of that!?"

"Your fault for wearing it."

He resumed his relentless assault, pushing Shina farther and farther back until she thudded against the wall, panting and with sweat dripping into her eyes. A smile spread across his features. "You give up yet?"

She clenched her jaw, beyond ready to quit, but her stubborn pride wouldn't allow it. "Never." He merely shrugged, the blades of his arms bearing down on her head just as she counter-2'd. Shit, wasn't he supposed to wait to kill her in the Carnival Corpse? Unexpectedly, his fist crashed into her jaw, causing her to stagger backwards. So he was fighting dirty now, too? Deciding to return the favor, Shina aimed a kick at his crotch, only for Senji to reach down and catch her leg, yanking backwards and twisting her onto her stomach. Her weapon was reduced to a bloody splatter on the wall.

"Done?" She didn't reply, clutching her dizzy skull and squeezing her eyes shut. "C'mon, little Sparrow, already? Not gonna put up more of a fight?" At her silence, he sighed in irritation, allowing his weapons to dissipate as he hauled her to her feet. "I mean, I figured you were fucked, but that was pathetic."

"Screw your overly-muscular ass, and stop calling me that," she hissed, pulling away from his grasp and tiredly making her way towards the door. Shina could hear him start chuckling behind her.

"What, little Sparrow? That's what you are! A tiny little songbird, being circled by birds of prey!"

Shina ignored the rage and humiliation building in her chest-the bastard was right-opting instead to cast the middle finger over her bloodstained shoulder.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Whoa, this actually got views? XD I feel so special! Even though nobody's reviewed, I figured I'd step up the quality, seeing as I started this just to screw around, so I promise future chapters will be much longer and more detailed, if taking quite a bit longer to update. Well, after this one, anyway, I'd already finished it as is (eheh, I may be a little lazy). Also, I'm not creepy, but the traffic graph whatever said I had a Croatian visitor, so... Kako ste?! Moj tata je Hrvat ^^ Oprostite, ja govorim vrlo loše. Posjetio sam četiri puta, i imam obitelj u blizini Zagreba, Splita i Livna. Nadam se da ćete uživati u moje pisanje! **

* * *

Two weeks following...

_Stuck in your wonderland..._

"Ah! Fuck..."

Shina still couldn't put even the slightest pressure on her left wrist without a sharp throbbing radiating up her arm, an obvious weakness for her next opponent to easily exploit. Especially considering she was going up against _Minatsuki_ in less than an hour, of all people. She still hadn't forgiven her about the bloody tear in her shirt, either. It was clear, tonight she'd get some revenge. The most Shina could hope for was that 'the Hummingbird' had a short-reaching Branch of Sin...

Sparrow vs. Hummingbird

Shina resigned herself almost immediately to allowing her opponent get the first hit-there wasn't any way for her to tear her own skin. She'd already tried biting her thumb, and all she'd gotten for her trouble was a bruise. Warily, she approached the innocent-seeming girl across from her, Minatsuki's eyes rapidly filling with more than bloodlust.

"Much for not getting any more blood on my shirt, huh, Sparrow? Fucking hell, you're such a filthy slut, you know that!?"

"Yeah, I think I've heard something like that," Shina muttered, not surprised at the girl's vile personality shift. She'd been witness to it multiple times already. Tilting her head to the side, Shina calmly blinked at her opponent, irking her into action.

"Little bitch!" And there it was. Holy hell. Shina allowed a surprised yelp to leave her lips as Minatsuki ripped away her earrings, ensnaring her with a line of blood and throwing her to the ground. _Don't show fear, don't show fear..._ Hopefully stoicism would mess with the combat sadomasochist.

It did. She released another screech and stream of profanity, lashing Shina's stomach, arms, legs, face. God, it hurt, the constant stinging and crack of the whip. Gritting her teeth, Shina threw her right palm in front of her, awaiting the slice that was sure to come. Then she could finally start fighting back-

Wait. Why had it stopped? She glanced up into the Hummingbird's eyes as she began laughing like a lunatic, her expression one of eager and bloodthirsty desire. "You think I'll be helping you form your own Bloodblade? You stupid skank! I'm not as dumb as you are!" A tendril of blood snaked around her neck, pulling tighter and making her gasp for breath even as Shina stumbled to her feet and inched closer to her opponent. More bloody strands tangled up her feet and remaining hand as she was dragged ever closer, each tightening as she stood face to face with Minatsuki. "Not so clever now, huh?" Shina released another small cry of pain, this one choked and strangled, as her left wrist's bindings were torn away, the horrifically scarred and scabbing stump ripped open to begin leaking blood again. Her vision was blacking out, dizzy from the sudden wave of pain. No, not again, not so soon, not the penalty game already! There had to be something she could do!

Shina's blood formed the shape before she even thought of it, all that dripping blood coalescing to a sharpened point, the long blade extending straight from the stump of her hand. If only it didn't fucking ache so much! Still, she wasted no time in slashing wildly at her opponent, eagerly gasping in air as her throat was released and Minatsuki tripped backwards.

"Useless whore," she growled, immediately trapping Shina again, this time strangling her tighter than before and at a farther distance. There wasn't any time to fight it, no chance to resist the pain and figure out how to wield a sword without a hand. She desperately sprinted forward, shouldering the smaller teen into the ground and falling on top of her, pressing her forearm deep against Minatsuki's throat. Now it came down to who could stay conscious the longest. The girl's blood whips were in a frenzy now, beating relentlessly against their opponent, but Shina held her place, ramming her elbow into Minatsuki's windpipe until she felt the girl's Branch of Sin retract from her own throat. "C-cocksucker," she wheezed, gradually growing limp. Spitting up blood, Shina rolled aside, taking a final glance at the passed-out form of her opponent. Huh, she almost looked cute and relatively sane when asleep.

Shina lapsed in and out of an anemia-induced haze as she was dragged from the arena and to the infirmary, not really registering what she'd just done as a 'victory.' Simply Minatsuki getting sent to the chopping block in her place...which made her feel even worse. She spent the time before the penalty round retching, chiefly bile and blood, hooked up to an IV and cutting her groans off in her throat as stitches were reapplied to her stump. And then, the TV flickered on. She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she could cut off her hearing, too, but knowing it would be useless. And then, she heard the verdict: stomach.

What the ever-loving fuck!? Humans, Deadmen or not, needed that shit to survive! How was Minatsuki supposed to eat? And her immune system? Her body would just fall into shock, she'd die, all because Shina-because she had-

Okay, so only half a stomach. That didn't ease her mind at all. Shina was just thankful the doctor had to knock her out before cutting open the girl...she wouldn't have to suffer the immediate pain of the mutilation.

Trying to keep her mind occupied, Shina considered her prize. So she had candy, enough to repay Karako and her continuous 'gifts' that'd been sustaining her so far. If Minatsuki didn't have enough, she'd cover her, too. And get her a new shirt. Everything else?

Whether or not Shina could manage swinging a sword without a hand, if she survived long enough, she was getting that goddamned prosthetic.


	8. Chapter 8

**So super apologies for taking forever, and special thanks to my wonderful reviewers, ShadowRose15 and pseudo-persona! Super sorry, I might've rage quit after writing some really awesome couple thousand words and losing it all cuz my pc crashed...I was really pissed, heh. Oh and no internet connection either woohoo so I've been doing this on my phone, but now whee I'm at college! Thanks for dealing with my shit ^^ And I won't be a lazy ass with the next chapter, promise. This time I really will make a good long one for you.  
**

* * *

Two months later...

_I wanna make you bleed just like me..._

"Scar Chain, you said?"

Karako smiled, turning her head sideways to reply before continuing down the hall. "Yep. I think it's about time you joined up, you've been managing yourself really well for awhile now."

Shina frowned, furrowing her brow. The matches after Minatsuki's all blended into one for her...She didn't give her opponent time to prepare, just charged them while they were still hurling insults. While Shina was never purposely lethal, how could she not be? Avoiding killing would get herself killed, or worse, back on the penalty game. Instinct overtook her, and instinct usually involved stabbing exposed vitals, or slashing someone's head open. Fencing wasn't always a sport or just for show; duels were real again, albeit in a twisted manner. How many people had she now butchered in-ha, the irony of the phrase-cold blood?

Eight. It was eight by now... Shina had begun to catalog the Carnival Corpse matches and had worked out a reliable schedule. Deadmen were chosen to fight in a relatively stable pattern, and as long as nobody new turned up to throw it off, well, it was highly accurate.

Which meant it was her and Senji tomorrow. Shoving the thought from her mind, she chased after Karako. "Why's it called Scar Chain?"

* * *

Sparrow vs. Crow

Shina looked at the man she'd been avoiding for two days, biting the inside of her cheek. "Hey, Crow."

"Little Sparrow." His thumb rings slit open his flesh, twin sickles emerging from his forearms. Grinning a bit, he added, "You better put up a fight now, or have I been training with you for nothing?"

She remained silent, running her sharpened nails along the tender flesh of her left 'hand,' watching the blood drip out before sharpening to a razor's edge. Reacting just in time to block a horizontal slice, she gritted her teeth, dropping to the floor and rolling away from the second blade. She'd never duel-wielded before, but it looked like it would be a necessity. One of the few purchases Shina had made-after several new shirts for Minatsuki, which had been received with an "about time, slut"-she'd gotten a foot of razor wire. It was one of the few things available that had a cutting edge, and she'd tied a piece of tie-dyed cloth around her upper left arm before fashioning the barbed wire into a bracelet of sorts. She raked her right palm and fingers across it now, wincing slightly at the new feeling of barbs digging into flesh. "Come on," she muttered to herself, watching the blood trickle down her wrist, unresponsive.

There was no time to curse her bad luck as Senji lunged at her again, pain now nipping at her shoulder after a narrow retreat. Fuck.

Slash, block. Parry retreat lunge, trip and land on injured shoulder, nearly get impaled. Huh, funny, that last one didn't seem right now did it. She hissed in pain, struggling to her feet only to fall backwards as Senji nearly sliced her head open. Her only focus was now on the blur of movement as she rolled and dodged the best she could, thrusting wildly with little damage to Senji to show for it. A flash of red was at the corner of her eye, preparing to strike her in the throat with a final blow. Unaware of her body's actions, Shina reacted on pure instinct, blinking open her eyes when all movement ceased and foreign blood trickled down her hand.

There were five sharp, curved blades of blood sunk deep into Senji's upper arm, extending downwards and connecting to the tips of her fingers like claws. "Fuck," she croaked, looking from his arm, her hand, his face and back again. She watched, detached as Senji began to chuckle, pulling his arm from her grip before slamming her head into the floor. "Very nice, little Sparrow. Very nice."

* * *

She came to almost immediately after, bound to a stretcher and being pulled from the arena. And hauled straight to the hellish room where her hand had been mutilated. Shina felt panic well up inside her, began hyperventilating as the scent of old blood faintly covered with disinfectant registered with her senses. She knew she was dizzy with fear, but it all seemed so far away, like she was watching someone else from afar. She was strapped down to the chair as the machine spun, round and round until the slots stopped on toenails. Certainly not as important as a hand, but it would make walking difficult. Her shoes were untied, socks carefully removed as Rei leaned down with pliers in hand, giving short pants as she smiled and sweat shined on her face. Now there stands a real sadist, Shina thought, blinking slowly as the slim metal jaws encased her nail.

Then the pain dragged her back into her body, screaming her throat raw. One by one each nail was pried free from her flesh. Here one was ripped away without preamble. Another was teased, gradually peeling back the protective layer to reveal the bloody skin beneath, air foreign and stinging on the exposed surface. No matter how she bucked and struggled against the restraining straps, the process continued, ten times, until every toe was left bare. When Shina was finally unbound, she wished she could faint again and make it all go away, but no such luxury came. Eventually she was left to crawl back to her room, unable to stand without collapsing in pain.

Lying there, she finally allowed the emotions she'd been keeping at bay to overwhelm her. The confusion of why it had to happen to her, the anger at that Tamaki bastard, the frustration of her inability to escape the situation. She mourned her hand, how she still went to use it, still felt it when she was groggy in the mornings, only for the loss to hit her again. The despair of watching her best friend, more than a brother, murdered in front of her, and she who was blamed. She cried over her hopelessness until no more tears would come.

"Do you have any fucking idea how fucking loud you are? For fuck's sake, Sparrow, get out of the hallway." Minatsuki yanked up her hand, glaring at the embarrassed and half-asleep Senji until he slung Shina's arm over his shoulder, dragging her through the halls. "We're going to that Scar Chain bullshit because Game Fowl said something about dumping your ass in a wheelchair, and I sure as hell don't wanna have you sprawled on the ground. You'll make me trip."

Ha, Shina thought, didn't know you cared. Senji growled out something in reluctant agreement, continuing to glance at Shina's remaining hand and the bandages wrapping his arm. "How the fuck did that happen? Damn, Sparrow, you got some claws!" She snorted, letting her eyes fall shut. "Fuck if I know," she murmured, losing herself to unconsciousness.

* * *

She woke up to a bar stool cutting into her back. Groaning a little as she sat upright and resting her forehead on the counter, Shina slowly registered Karako's presence, that and somebody else's.

"It's good to see you awake, Sparrow. My name is Nagi, and I'm the leader of Scar Chain."

"Pleasure," she muttered through gritted teeth. Blah blah blah crap about exposing corruption and bringing justice, why should she be giving a shit? Shina furrowed her brow, trying to remember what Karako told her about this guy, because really, what was his deal? Something like he lost his wife, his child, and his voice to this hellhole...

His voice. She shot to her feet, immediately regretting it as her knees hit the hardwood floor. "Your vocal cords were taken out," she said breathlessly, staring up at Nagi in slight shock. "How are you talking? Why?"

He and Karako shared a glance before he replied. "I have an artificial voicebox. Anyway, as I mentioned-"

"Give me my hand back," Shina pleaded, staring him straight in the eyes. He got his voice why couldn't she have her hand. "Please. I'll do whatever you ask, just give me my hand back, anything," she added desperately, squeezing her eyes shut and dropping her forehead till it almost touched the floor. They had to be able to, they had to!

"W-well, I'll see what we can do, but that's a tall order. It'll take months at the earliest."

"I don't care! Just tell me what you need and I'll do it, as long as you can make me whole again!"

"What we need," he said, mild exasperation in his voice, "are strong members. What we need is a plan, a way out of here, a way to remove these collars and return to as normal a life as possible! Don't offer what you can't give."

"Owl, really, leave the girl alone," Karako cut in, clutching his shoulder.

Shina raised her head, a swirling multitude of thoughts overtaking her. "I can't remove these collars but I can find a way to permanently counteract the poison. I was going into college for toxicology." It was a quite specific field, but she'd taken those studies in biology and chemistry very seriously. "I learned a lot independently. If you can get me access to a lab of some sort, a connection to America's FDA database, candy, a dead man-a literal one-I can figure it out. I promise." It was a flimsy promise and a flimsy proposal, but it was all Shina could think of. In all honesty, she eventually would have tried to begin research on her own.

Nagi furrowed his brow, scratching at the back of his head. "Hm. I don't know...that might be too difficult to arrange."

Karako helped Shina back onto the bar stool, giving her hand a light squeeze. "Give Sparrow a chance to prove herself, would you? If she knows as much as she says this is our best chance to counteract the collars."

He sighed in defeat. "I'll see what can be done. Don't expect much, though."


End file.
